


fire meet gasoline

by pendules



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 03:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: The Shield was supposed to stand above it all. United. The Shield was supposed to last forever. No cracks, no doubts, no temptation whispered into the ear of the already susceptible and taking root somewhere deep down inside. They were supposed to bestronger.But maybe, when it came to each other, they were all equally weak.The one where Dean and Seth had a 'wild time' in Vegas before The Shield broke up that they pretended never happened.





	fire meet gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> [Based on this idea I had.](http://dudeambrose.tumblr.com/post/162926730998/so-that-last-gifset-is-just-making-me-think-about)

Dean doesn't spill the full story for more than a year afterwards. He's at Roman's house for New Year's and they're in the backyard sprawled on lawn chairs nursing beers when it feels like the right time to come clean.

"Remember last Christmas?"

"You mean the one you spent getting drunk with strangers in bars like a pathetic loser?" Roman says, his tone more pitying than deliberately insulting.

"Yeah, _that_ one." It's not entirely true, though; he'd _actually_ spent Christmas day itself in sweatpants on his couch watching awful movies and passing out in front of the TV before the clock even struck midnight. He's not sure if that makes him more or less of a loser.

"I called you a couple days afterwards and you _still_ sounded like shit."

"You put Jojo on the phone to say Merry Christmas," Dean reminisces. "Her sweet little girl voice was like nails being driven into my skull. It was a pleasant experience all around."

Roman laughs.

Dean swallows a mouthful of beer before gritting his teeth and letting it just roll off his tongue.

"I wasn't alone, though," he admits.

"Oh." Roman quirks an eyebrow.

"No, nothing like you're thinking."

"I mean, I figured you would've probably hooked up with _someone_ —"

"It was _Seth_ ," Dean says bluntly.

Roman goes comically speechless for more than a few seconds, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Dean shrugs. "I don't know either, man. He just showed up, out of the blue. With some bullshit excuse about needing a change of scenery."

"That doesn't sound like Seth," Roman says pensively. But of course, it's not like either of them really ever knew what the fuck was going on in Seth's brain at any given moment. 

"I thought so too. I figured he thought I was lonely but didn't want to say that," Dean says, with a smile that's more like a grimace.

Roman just looks somber.

"So, he shows up," Dean goes on. "And I show him around a bit, and before we know it, we've been to, like, a dozen bars and it's 3am and Seth's probably even drunker than I am. Which would've been a fucking _achievement_ , if you know what I'm saying. I had to practically drag him back to the car. And before I could even get the door unlocked, he's fucking _kissing_ me."

Roman inhales deeply, still looking a bit taken aback by the revelation.

"I _know_ , man. I thought I was fucking hallucinating or something. I still didn't know what the hell he was even _doing_ there. But I was fucked out of my head enough to go along with it."

Roman nods, almost mournfully. "I always knew, I think, that there was something there. Like a lit match a bit too close to a tank overflowing with gasoline. That it would all combust eventually." 

"We didn't talk about it at all," Dean tells him quietly. "We were so hungover the next morning — we just had breakfast and I drove him to the airport. And that was that."

And five months later, it was over. Just like that.

"I think I could feel that tension," Roman says. "But I thought it was just stress or fatigue or the goddamn Wyatts or —"

Roman doesn't say what they're both thinking: frustration, unease, discontent within the ranks. Because it wasn't supposed to be like that. The Shield was supposed to stand above it all. United. The Shield was supposed to last forever. No cracks, no doubts, no temptation whispered into the ear of the already susceptible and taking root somewhere deep down inside. They were supposed to be _stronger_.

But maybe, when it came to each other, they were all equally weak.

"Maybe he _knew_ back then," Dean says darkly. "What was gonna go down."

"You think he did it to hurt you?" Roman asks carefully.

Dean shakes his head. "Nah, I don't think so. I think he _wanted_ to. I think he wanted to be there. He was — he was happy, free. Different. But then it all changed after that."

"One moment of bliss before the inevitable fall."

"That's how it happens," Dean says, remembering all too well their conquests of Evolution, the three of them standing on the top of the world, before it all came crashing down around them.

"You didn't deserve to be used like that," Roman says gently.

"I wasn't, though. I _wanted_ it," he confesses. "I wanted more than that. I wanted _all_ of it."

"Why didn't you say anything then?"

"Because — because I thought _this_ was more important," he says scornfully. "I didn't want to mess up what we had."

Hindsight's a fucking bitch, is the thing. He's not sure what would've hurt more, having Seth in all the ways he wanted and losing it, or never getting the chance at all in the first place.

He supposes there's no way to know.

He supposes it's just like they pretended for all those months. It's like that night never happened at all.

*

Two years later, there's another night in Vegas. Except this time _Dean_ is the one with a little surprise for Seth.

It flashes through his mind — Seth roughly pressing him up against the side of the car, hands all over him, kissing him so hard he couldn't breathe, skin sliding against skin against vinyl car seats, a continuous litany of gasps and cut-off moans and swears, limbs haphazardly entangled in the most confined of spaces — just as he smashes him over the side of the head with the briefcase. 

*

They win the tag titles a year and a half later, and when they get back to Gorilla, Seth just throws his full body weight at him, causing him to stumble back a few steps, clings on for dear life, panting into his shoulder, arms tight around his neck. Dean closes his eyes, tucks his face against the side of Seth's neck, breathes in as he winds his arms around Seth's waist.

Seth pulls back a fraction of an inch after what seems like a really long time. It looks like he's crying. And then he just locks eyes with Dean before surging up and brushing his lips to Dean's, almost unsettlingly gentle. He pulls back again after a second, like he thinks he's made a mistake in the heat of the moment. They just stare at each other, wide-eyed, and Seth starts to say, "Sorry," but he can't get the full word out before Dean's reeling him back in and crushing their mouths together, not really giving a fuck who sees them or if there's any fucking cameras around or anything. 

He doesn't care, because it's been about five fucking years and he's spent the majority of his time in Seth's presence wanting to do just _this_ , even when he also wanted to strangle him with his bare hands.

He doesn't _care_ , because he never dreamt he'd have a second chance. A second kiss. Because the first one only led to ruin and heartbreak.

Dean runs his hands through Seth's hair as they draw apart, foreheads still grazing each other. Seth's eyes are closed but there's a peaceful look on his face; it's like he can't imagine this being real either.

"Why'd you come to Vegas that one time?" Dean murmurs, hoping he's not entirely shattering the moment, because he has to know.

Seth's eyes crack open, his expression almost haunted. Like he's reliving that night all over again too.

"I just — I wanted to know what it felt like," he manages to get out, sounding all choked-up. "Before —"

"And it wasn't enough?" Dean demands. "That wasn't enough for you to stay?" 

Seth shakes his head, looking ridden with guilt. "No. God, no. It was — it was fucking _everything_. I was just too scared of it, of fucking it all up."

"Well, you did that anyway," Dean says bitterly.

"I know. I fucking _know_ ," Seth says, expression frantic, desperate. "I knew it wouldn't last. I didn't want it to hurt any more than it had to."

"You — you fucking hurt me more than _anyone_ ," Dean tells him, eyes welling up, voice breaking.

Seth lowers his head, shakes it slowly from side to side. "I can never make that up to you."

"No, you can't," Dean says placidly. "But tell me something." 

Dean catches his chin between his thumb and index finger and gently tilts his face back up to meet his gaze.

"What?" Seth asks breathlessly, staring up at him with shining eyes.

"Tell me something true," Dean says firmly.

"I love you," Seth breathes out at once, like it's been physically painful to hold it inside all this time. "I've _always_ —"

Dean leans forward and steals the words off his lips. Seth sighs and melts into the kiss, like the chaos inside his heart has finally been put to rest. No more fighting against it. No more denial.

Dean holds him close and lets the hurt and the regret and the longing that's been eating away at his insides finally drain out of his body. It leaves him feeling lighter and fuller at the same time — able to breathe easier, but overflowing with warmth and relief and hope.

For once, he's not thinking about that night in Vegas, that lost chance; he's completely alive and awake in this moment, here and now. And he's not letting go of it.


End file.
